Time Jump
by Mursac
Summary: Travis, the son of an industrial multibillionare creates a powered suit of armor, but when the excrement hits the fan during a test, he finds himself in Berk.  Travis is in the year 2040, and he arrives in Berk a week before the events of the movie.  This is not a true crossover, it is just labeled as such because the suit is so similar to Stark's.
1. Intro

Time Jump

Disclaimer: I do not own HTTYD or Iron Man (suit inspiration). It's depressing.

AN: I got the idea for this when I watched iron man 2 and HTTYD one right after the other. Travis is _based_ off Tony Stark, but is by few means the same character. You'll see what I mean. I also decided to make him a teenager to help him associate with the Viking youth.

SPEECH:

:_blah blah blah_: = dragon speech

"blah blah blah" = normal speech

_Blah blah blah = _thought (applies to all characters)

"**Blah Blah Blah" =** Marv speaking

Travis surveyed his handiwork. Originally it had been a gift from his rich father, but in an effort to follow his dad's footsteps, he'd taken it and modified it beyond recognition. He was damned proud of it. The armor gleamed brilliantly, its polished surface shining in the work light. It had

taken him several months of intense work to complete it, with many a fair share of blue streaks and parts flying across the lab, but he'd managed alright in the end.

His father was an engineering genius, the tech giant of the time, designing and manufacturing everything from medical equipment to state-of-art weapons systems. Travis? He preferred the weapons. It wasn't that he was fascinated by war, but more the tools involved. This suit was an

example of that. Six months before, he had just turned sixteen, and his dad had given him a powered exoskeleton because he'd expressed interest in owning one, but it was just a bare bones framework, and not much more. He'd decided to add onto it, and several months later, it was

complete. All he had left to do was upload his AI system to act as a copilot. "Wake up Marv, you ready for this?" "**Always sir, I never get any rest around here.**""I'll take that as a yes, give me a moment and I'll send you through." "**Please make it fast.**" "Huh?" "**You know how I hate **

**those transfer cables.**" He rolled his eyes. "It can't be that bad." "**How would you like to be ripped apart, dragged through a cable, and gradually reassembled? I never have liked that feeling…**" _Oh shut up._

_On another plane of existence…_

Stoick the Vast stood outside watching the encroaching cloud bank. He could tell at a glance it wasn't going to be good. Storms of this size happened regularly in Berk, after all they were solidly on the meridian of misery, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. That and all the dragon

raids… He shook his head. Now was not the time to worry about that, the more pressing danger was the approaching storm. He guessed it was about a day away. Enough time to prepare Berk… He heard peg-legged footsteps behind him. He didn't need to look to know it was Gobber.

"Aye, looks bad doesn't it?" He only nodded, what more was needed? "Anythin' yeh need me teh' do?" "Yes, get the village to start hunkerin' down for the storm; we'll be seein' the wrath of all Helheim on this one." He nodded and hobbled away. Stoick figured he'd better be there to

supervise, Gods know what could happen, especially with Hiccup on the loose… Where was he anyway? He was probably making some new "invention" or possibly even testing one… Yes, he should definitely be in the village. He turned around and started back. If anything happened, he

had to be there to clean it up. Upon entering the village, he noted that Gobber had acted quickly in getting the villagers preparing, everybody had a job, and they knew what it was. They'd had to do this so many times, it was routine. Seeing as everything was in order, he figured it would

be wise to check up on Hiccup. He headed to the forge. That's where he spent most of his time during the day. He walked in the entrance and saw Gobber heating the coals. "Have yeh seen Hiccup anywhere?" "Eh? Oh hello again Stoick, he's in back." "Thank you." Upon entering the back

room, he immediately noticed papers strewn all over the place, with drawings for strange contraptions Stoick would never understand set on the walls. The next thing he saw was Hiccup kneeling by some kind of a mad cross between a catapult and a crossbow. "Son." Hiccup stood up

and whirled around. "Dad! Uh… Hi, what are you…" Stoick cut him off. " I was lookin' for you." "Ah, well I'm right here, just doing stuff." He was silent for a moment. "Care to tell me what that is?" He said eyeing the contraption. "This? Oh, it's just a little uh snare shooting thing." Oh no…

"Snaring what?" "Dragons." Oh please Thor not again. "I was just finishing up before you came in, I was about to go and uh, test it." "Well, um, thanks for telling me son, I'd best be on my way now." He turned to leave and then something occurred to him. "Hiccup." "Yeah?" "Point it away

from the village." He hurried out, and Gobber shot him an inquisitive look. "Duck and Cover." He murmured. He saw Hiccup wheel out the catapult, and decided it would be best to leave then. As he was walking away he heard a loud click followed by "Son of a-" *CRASH*…"HICCUP!" "…

oops…" Odin help him.

Well, here it is, the first chapter of the first fanfic I have EVER made. I know it's short, I kinda rushed it. I am open to comments of all sorts so long as they are productive. I want to hear suggestions if you have any. If it's bad, tell me why, and I'll do my best to correct it. If you do like it, I'll apologize in advance, I haven't any idea when I'll update again.


	2. Random Tidbits not really important

Information

Disclaimer: I do not own HTTYD or Iron man, maybe I'll write an alternate universe where I do… nah, to risky.

Note: this "pseudo-chapter" isn't meant for entertainment, but just to provide random tidbits of information about the characters and background that may or may not be helpful. I followed Dygen Entreri's suggestion and labeled this a crossover, it does lean more to that side.

* * *

Travis is an only child with a single parent, his father. His mother suffered complications during the birth of his to-be brother, killing them both, leaving Howard devastated. He was seven at the time.

I named Travis' father "Howard" as a nod to Howard Stark.

Howard started his empire after a massive jackpot in the lottery, he used his winning to kick start his company, and it paid off.

The armor is based heavily off of Iron Man's, although for the sake of originality, I put my own touches on it. I'll unveil those as the story progresses. Most are under the skin.

This is fiction, so if I defy the laws of physics, let's assume it's a function of the suit.

For the projectile weapons of the armor, you may be inclined to believe he will eventually run completely out of ammo during the course of the story. I have a way of countering that.

Said projectile weapons include two, fold out miniaturized Gatling Guns, forearm mounted micro rockets (timer optional), magnesium flares, shoulder mounted, non-explosive micro rockets, and hand-plate mounted knockout darts.

The bare bones framework I spoke of is a slimmed down, streamlined, and more form fitting version of the "Raytheon XOS 1 (or 2)." Have a look.

* * *

I'm not sure if this was really necessary, but for now it's just here if needed. Also, chapter two is in progress, but I'm still trying to decide how best to place him in Berk, or rather, _drop_ him on it. Any suggestions would be appreciated.


	3. Test Drive

Well, this is it, the second official chapter. I know it has been several months since I updated as I just haven't been very dedicated to this story, however, I watched HTTYD again recently, and decided that maybe I should continue this. I've been whittling away at this all summer, but I finally just decided to finish this before summer runs out. This is actually the third version of this chapter I have written, as I wasn't happy with the previous two versions.

Dragon Speech: _example_

Thoughts/ thought command: _Example_

Human Speech: "example"

Marv Speech: **Example**

Travis stood panting in the middle of the testing range, the wrecked heaps of what used to be combat drones laying around him, leaking hydraulics fluid and sparking randomly. **Targets: Terminated.**

He looked at his palms, glancing at the glowing repulsor disks. They were supposed to be simply flight stabilizers, but in the heat of the fight, he'd fired at one of the drones and destroyed the plating on its side, effectively killing it. He wondered how he didn't see this use when he designed them. He shrugged, he'd have to look into it later. For now he needed to get on with the flight tests. Lucky for him, his dad had some friends inside the FAA, so he rang them up and managed to get a twenty minute window where no aircraft would be flying through the airspace. It was just enough time to flight test the suit. He glanced around at the sky. It was completely overcast, so as long as he stayed above the cloud layer, he would remain unseen.

Travis glanced at his palms one more time before leaning his head back and extending his arms out to his sides. He took a deep breath, then triggered the suits thrusters. He already knew how to handle the suit in flight. With his seemingly limitless reserves of money, he had managed to build a simple simulator that would help teach him how the armor would react once in the air. Despite logging almost 30 hours on the sim and managing to nail down the mechanics of flight, he was nervous. He'd been skydiving before and knew the feeling of free-fall, but this was different, and he knew it. He felt himself pressed into the armor as it shot into the air, and at that moment the adrenalin rush hit him full force. He wasn't sure if he was feeling sheer terror, or having the most fun of his life. He briefly wondered whose voice was yelling in the background before it struck him that it was his own. As he punched through the cloud layer, he moved his arms, sending himself into a series of corkscrews before he leveled out. Gasping for air, he glanced down at the clouds below, watching them rocket past. He experimented with moving different parts of his body, and seeing what the suit did in response. This was flying as humans had always imagined it.

"Alright Marv, let's see how fast this thing can go." He brought up his GPS system to check his location, and then banked towards the ocean. It was handy to live in Florida. With water on all sides except north, he had a near unlimited aerial test range out to sea. He was flying subsonic, but it still didn't take very long to reach the shoreline, his GPS guiding him the whole way. Once he was two miles out to sea, he descended below the clouds and started circling.

"Marv, keep me posted on my airspeed, I'd like to know how this thing does."

**Will Do.**

He gunned the thrusters. He grunted as he was forced into the armor, he knew that as inertia caught up to him he wouldn't feel it, but for now it was pretty uncomfortable.

**300 miles per hour.** He gritted his teeth.

**400 miles per hour.** He yelled as the ocean sped by below him.

**500 miles per hour. **The water was nothing but a blur at this point. 

**600 miles per hour. **"HELL YEAH!"

**700 miles per hour. You are approaching Mach 1. ** He didn't dare twitch for fear he would send himself into the water.

**800 miles per hour. You have broken Mach 1.** That was enough for him…

He chopped the power to his thrusters, popped his speed brakes and put his hands out in front of him, firing his repulsors to slow down. It took him about a mile to do so, but he managed. He hovered in the air and looked around. His instruments said he was already seventeen miles out to sea. 

_For only one minute of flight. Wow._ He flipped up his faceplate and inhaled the crisp night air. No matter how good the climate control inside the suit was, the air still got a little stale after a while. He closed his helmet and brought up his navigator. He considered turning around and flying back to shore, but he still wanted to mess around. After a quick location check, he realized he was only about 7 miles from one of the sides of the Bermuda Triangle. _Heh Heh, worth a shot… It's just a myth anyway._

"Hey Marv, were headed for the triangle, how much you wanna bet anything interesting happens?"

**Honestly sir, I think nothing at all will happen, it IS just fiction.**

"You're no fun."

**I was never meant to be.**

As Travis crossed into the triangle, he noticed how the clouds appeared to be receding, leaving a clear night sky ahead of him. He banked right, heading deeper into the "triangle". Despite all signs that nothing was up, he couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. No matter how much he didn't believe in it, there was still a certain feeling of apprehension when daring fate to strike you down like he was now.

He had been flying for about 15 minutes when he decided to turn around and head back. What had started as a scenic trip had turned boring quickly. With nothing but water to look at, he was about to fall asleep (and he needed to go really f***ing bad…). It was at about that point he noticed something. His digital compass was spinning in circles, and his GPS display was starting to fade into static. He had no idea where he was.

"Uh, Marv what the hell is going on with my instruments?" They were all starting to fade into static, and his viewscreen appeared garbled. He could see where he was going, but it was incredibly distracting.

**There are high amounts of electro-magnetic interference in the area. All electronic navigation systems are currently disabled. **"Dammit! Can you at least manually guide me out?" **I wish I could sir, but with the navigation systems down, I am as lost as you. **

To make matters worse, Travis noticed that while he was panicking about being unable to navigate, a thick yellowish fog had rolled in obscuring his vision. He'd heard tales about this stuff, it just came out of nowhere and swallowed whoever was unlucky enough to be caught inside it. _Just_ _like me. Not a comforting thought… _

"Marv! I installed a distress beacon in the suit, correct?" **You did, sir.** "Turn it on; if I don't make it out of this, I at least want my dad to have a body."

He turned on the radio and began speaking.

"To anyone that can hear this, my name is Travis Lawson, I am lost somewhere in the area nicknamed the "Bermuda Triangle", I was flight testing a suit of powered combat armor when my instruments began to fail. My other suit systems are failing one by one, I don't know how much longer I'll last. I'm not even sure my radio is working. Send out a search effort, if you find my body, cremate me and scatter my ashes in my workshop." He turned off the radio and inhaled deeply. He was going to die, he was sure of it.

Travis watched helplessly as the suit shut down little by little. He attributed it to his extremely high stress levels, but his chest was starting to get an odd buzzing feeling. He decided to give escaping one last try. He leveled out and slammed his repulsors to full power, flying in any direction just hoping to get out alive. His hopes were severely shaken when he felt the armor shuddering and shaking, plus that chest buzzing feeling was getting stronger… It occurred to him it felt almost like a light electrical current moving through him… what the hell? He glanced at his energy readout and almost choked. He had expected to be bleeding off energy like a dying pig, but the reactor was verging on overload! The heavily electrical interference in the air was causing the reactor to overcharge itself, which if power was not drained off or the reactor shut down, would result in a massive energy flux and fry the suit. Possibly his synapses to… "SHIT! Marv! Shut down the reactor! NOW!" He heard no response. "Marv! Are you there? I said SHUT IT DOWN!" He began zig-zagging around, desperately hoping to find a way out. Here he was, lost in the middle of the ocean, trapped in a rapidly failing metal coffin, with no clue where he was, AND NO F***ING COPILOT! The suit shuddered again and he felt the repulsors faltering. Then he got an idea. If he shot straight up, he could rise above the fog and possibly escape the electrical interference. He didn't know how high up it went, but he made the suit with an airtight seal, so if he wound up in space (as unlikely as it was), he'd be ok. It was his last chance at living, so it was worth a try. He quickly changed directions and shot upwards. The repulsors flickered again, and he briefly wondered how they were still running. He felt his left hand give out and he desperately tried to maintain his balance with only one hand, but it wasn't going well. He could almost feel the fog getting thinner, it was just a few more feet… With one last surge of energy, they cut out.

"No No NO NO NOOOOOO!" He was just beginning to see the sun shining through before he plunged back into the thick fog. With the thrusters no longer sucking excess power out of the reactor, it was the final straw that pushed the armor over the edge. Travis screamed as the reactor overloaded and the unused energy coursed through him, the metal armor only conducting it. Although his eyes were closed, he could see lights dancing in front of him as the raw power ran through him. He jerked violently as a massive burst of energy was released from the reactor, completely engulfing the suit. The energy fluctuation only lasted for a second, but by the time it cleared, both he and the armor appeared to have been vaporized…

**Village of Berk…**

The storm raged overhead, but with surprisingly little rain. However, there was plenty of thunder and lightning to go around, with rip-your-roof-off winds on the side. The village folk were either hunkered down in their homes, or drinking the storm away in Mead Hall. Some were standing on tables dancing to nothing, while other hearty souls laughed at the storm and dared the gods "to do better than that" while their slightly more sober friends tried to tell them maybe that wasn't such a good idea until they eventually got in on it themselves.

Stoic sat in his chair at the head of the hall watching the festivities and chatting with Gobber. He himself was a little tipsy, but his duties as chief dictated he needed to remain at least somewhat sober so as to break up any _problems_ that may arise. So far he was lucky, nobody had destroyed any tables yet, and no outstanding blood feuds had arisen. This was a good night. All that was shattered in the next few seconds however… A flash of light brighter than the sun shattered the festive mood in Mead Hall, followed shortly by an explosion. It sounded almost like a clap of thunder, but with a strange whistling ring threaded into it. Despite the bad conditions, Vikings all over the village rushed to their doors and windows to see what it was. Most didn't get there in time, but those who did either thought they'd drank too much, or were witnessing the beginning of ragnarok.

Some kind of object was streaking through the sky towards the village. It was trailing some kind of bluish glowing mist behind it as it fell. The object itself appeared metallic, and looked like small bolts of lightning were flowing along its surface. Nobody got a good look at the shape of the object, but they all saw it land just out of sight of the village, and disappear into the forest. Those who witnessed the event stood looking around at each other, blinking and pinching themselves.

Stoic stood staring at the spot where the object crashed. He didn't know quite what to make of it. He glanced to his right where Gobber stood wide-eyed and gaping into the forest. Stoic clapped his hand on Gobber's shoulder and lightly shook him, snapping him out of his trance.

"Heh, well there's the topic o' conversation for the rest o' the week."

He turned away from the door and walked back inside, as did everyone else. Everyone who witnessed the impact stood glancing around at each other, not really knowing what to think. The party atmosphere had dissolved, so people began to stumble back to their houses. Already the storm was dying down, lightning still cracked on occasion, but the winds were taming down quickly. By the time Stoic was out, it was just a light breeze.

As Stoic headed back to the house, he hoped that Hiccup hadn't tried to go looking for the… whatever it was. With weather like this, only Thor knew what could happen out there. Upon entering the house, he was glad to see that Hiccup was sitting down with his sketchbook, and was hastily sketching what looked like the object they'd just seen. He looked up in surprise and clapped the book shut.

"Oh, uh hey dad, I thought you were uh-"

"It broke up early."

"Ah." They stood in silence for a moment before Stoic turned and shuffled back to his room. He glanced back and saw Hiccup flip open his notebook and begin drawing that… thing. He slowly shook his head, and closed the door behind him.


	4. Discoveries

Well, here it is, I have seen a few people comment on this as well as a few favorites, while I'm sure others have given up hope. The story is not dead yet, just twitching. So I decided to post this chapter and see what happens.

Dragon Speech: _example_

Thoughts/ thought command: _Example_

Human Speech: "example"

Marv Speech: **Example**

* * *

Stoic raised his hand to stop the troop of Vikings walking behind him. Earlier that morning he had called a meeting at Mead Hall where the main topic of conversation was the odd occurrence from the night before. By now, everyone who'd seen it had described it to those who hadn't, and almost everyone was in a state of either confusion or panic. After dealing with the various theories ranging from:

"It's a sign! Ragnarok has begun!" to

"A gift from the gods!" and even from one person:

"Our alien overlords have arrived!"

(which resulted in several audible groans), Stoic managed to bring together a search party of thirty Vikings as well as his son to comb the forest where it looked like the object had fallen. It had seemed like a good idea to bring Hiccup along, he figured outings like this would be good for the boy, but internally, he also wanted to give the village a break from him. That incident with his little contraption a while ago was fresh in his mind, and he wasn't keen on any repeats. His thoughts returned to the present as he looked ahead at what appeared to be smoke rising through the foliage in front of him. After about two hours of searching, it would be a relief to actually find something. He signaled to his brother Spitelout and a few of his other battle-brothers to follow him, and they crept quietly through the plant life. You wouldn't think it, but Vikings could be surprisingly stealthy when they needed to be, such as stalking a deer or other skittish game; or when approaching Thor-knows-what from Thor-knows-where. As they stepped past the bushes, Stoic's breath hitched in his throat. But not 10 feet in front of them was a large crater which appeared to have been blasted out of the earth. Trees within range of the crater had been torn up by their roots and shredded, with many bearing scorch marks that made it appear as if some rabid dragon had gone on a rampage.

When the group ventured out that morning, they had been expecting a crater, as nothing they knew of could fall from that far and not make a dent of some sort. They had also expected to find the object responsible for the crater within it, but instead all they had was an empty smoking hole in the ground with no sign of what made it. He gestured to one of the men in the group.

"Go get the others, see what they make of this."

He nodded before disappearing into the brush. Stoic carefully climbed into the crater and knelt to look at the ground. He experimentally tapped a smoking clump of dirt expecting it to be hot, but instead it was barely warm to the touch. He picked it up and rolled it around in his hand, breaking it apart with his fingers, releasing more smoke. He tossed the clump back to ground and continued looking around the crater.

Within moments, the rest of the group emerged from the trees and spread out over the crater. Despite all of the Vikings searching the area, they could find no sign of whatever caused the crash. To Stoic, it seemed that whatever caused this either got up and walked away, or was completely obliterated on impact. Whatever the case, he was glad it hadn't landed in the village where it could have caused a lot more damage.

Hiccup watched his father conversing with Spitelout. He wasn't sure why his father had brought him along, although he wasn't complaining, he still wondered. He would have thought his dad would be dead set on leaving him at the village, but instead, he seemed almost insistent on bringing him along.

It was strange looking at the crater; the way it was shaped showed that the… _thing_ had hit at an angle. He glanced up and looked around. Right off the bat, he took note of the far wall of the crater; it looked almost as if something had slid _up_ the wall, as opposed to having been blasted out. Another glance revealed that the surrounding trees, although scorched, didn't appear to have damaged by anything solid. If that _thing_ was destroyed on impact, anything around should have been shredded by flying shrapnel, or flattened. He made up his mind, it was around here somewhere, and likely intact. He glanced again at the crater and mentally drew a line up the center. The way he had it figured, if whatever it was had bounced out of the crater, it would likely be somewhere along the direction that line pointed.

Travis slowly opened his eyes, squinting as the clear morning light blinded him. He was lying sprawled on the ground, his arms spread to his sides. He tried to look around, but his head and neck felt far heavier than they should, and he let them flop back. _Where the hell am I?_ He blinked a few times to clear the haze his eyes seemed to be caught in, then noticed that his field of vision seemed to be limited at best. That's when the memories hit him full force; the flight, the overload… the crash. He was looking through the unpowered eye slits of the armor. He groaned and tried to roll over, but encountered the same weight problem as in his neck; he could barely budge an arm, let alone get up. At that point, he gave in and decided to just lay there.

He knew that normally he should be panicking at being trapped in a metal tomb and unable to move, but he also knew that if the armor ever lost power and the wearer found themselves in his situation, they would need a way out. Hence, he'd quietly incorporated a new addition to his tech arsenal: Nanites. Two kinds of them actually. The first were tuned towards repairing synthetic parts; in other words, they would get the armor up and running if it was damaged. The second type served a different purpose, but they were no less vital. They healed wounds at an inhumanly fast pace to keep the wearer alive and kicking even when gravely injured. If they were given enough time, they could even restore the occupant to good as new. He silently thanked himself he'd set them up the way he did. He'd almost made them run off of the central power system, but decided that if the suit lost power; the nanites would be useless, hence defeating their purpose. Instead he'd made them separate from the power systems, and wrote their instructions in a form of synthetic DNA stored inside each nanite. In a way, they were alive, and it was for situations like this that he'd made them that way.

He knew that at this moment, they were working on restoring power, but without anything to give him exact times, he wasn't sure how long it would take. Considering the damage the suit systems could have taken, he figured it would be at most a week before the suit was fully functional again, but that was with no access to the right tools to speed the process along. Hopefully it would be just a few hours until power was restored and he could at least move. For now he had nothing to do, and he was exhausted after the night's events. After staring at the sky for a while, he nodded off.

_What the hel IS that?_ Hiccup drew his dagger and held it ready as he crept forward through the brush. In a small field in front of him, some kind of shiny object laid at the end of a shallow trench that had been dug out of the ground.

He blinked a few times and pinched himself. Whatever it was, it was clearly made out of metal, but it was shaped like a man and had a dark triangle in the center of its chest, with two equally dark shapes on its face about where eyes would be.

Seeing as it wasn't moving, he slowly emerged from the bushes and walked up to it. Now that he was closer he could make out some of the finer details. The way the face was arranged, it looked like a cold, hard stare. The curvature of the slits made it look like its "eyes" were narrowed in anger or extreme irritation. He knelt down and lightly tapped the arm, confirming it was metal. As he observed the object, his mind was running wild.

_Who made this? It shines like fine steel, with no apparent flaws… How did they form it? Even Gobber with his experience couldn't craft this. Whoever forged this is likely the most talented smith in all of Midgard… or even all the realms of Yggdrasil…_

He glanced up at the sky then back down at the figure at his feet, suddenly wary of the shining object. It _had_ fallen from the sky during one of the worst thunderstorms ever seen. For all he knew, it could have been sent (or cast out) by the gods themselves. Having made up his mind, he turned and started running back to the adults.

Stoic face-palmed. He had brought Hiccup along not only to get him out of the village for a while, but also to see if he could come up with anything _reasonable_ regarding what they were dealing with, but as soon as he'd turned around, he saw that the boy had vanished. He inwardly sighed and started wandering around looking for him. He knew he should have expected it; the boy had the shortest attention span he'd ever seen, and had a knack for getting into things he shouldn't, which is why it was best to keep the boy in sight at all times. This was another reason he'd brought him along, yet he'd still slipped away. He silently reprimanded himself; the boy was sixteen now, a man by Viking standards, and Stoic knew he shouldn't have such a grip on him, but he was genuinely concerned for him, he just didn't know how to express that.

Stoic stopped, his senses suddenly on full alert; he heard something crashing through the bushes to his left. It wasn't steady footfalls, but irregular patterns, almost as if whatever was making them was stumbling and stripping every third or fourth step… Hiccup emerged from the bushes and almost face planted directly into Stoic's chest, panting heavily.

"Dad! Uh, hi! pant You need to pant see this pant I…"

Stoic stood there for a moment, bewildered by the sudden appearance of his son, and his ramblings. _What's gotten inteh im'?_

"Hiccup! Where have yeh…" He stopped. "What happened?"

Hiccup took a few more breaths, and then continued.

"Dad, were not alone out here! I wanted to see if I could find that thing from last night, so I went looking!" Stoic's eye's narrowed. "Well, I found something."

"What, exactly?"

"I-I don't know, dad. It's shaped like a person, but it's made of metal or something like that-"

As Hiccup tried to describe what he'd supposedly seen, Stoic began to think. Tales like this were not new, Hiccup had a reputation for outlandish stories and "beyond the norm" beliefs, no doubt because of Gobber, but this particular iteration was new.

"-sent by the gods-" Stoic raised his hands to stop his son. _Before this goes too far…_

"Hiccup, now is not the time. After wha' happened last night, I need yeh teh be serious about this."

"Dad, I am serious! I'm telling you what I saw! I followed where the crater pointed and…"

Stoic was getting irritated quickly. "Hiccup! How can I know you're not makin' this up!?"

"I saw it with my own eyes! It's probably still there!"

"Prove it."

"I…this way"

At that, Hiccup turned and began disappearing into the brush. Deciding to follow, but feeling nonetheless cautious, Stoic gestured to some of the Vikings who had turned to watch the scene, instructing them to follow him. As Hiccup led them into the forest, Stoic noted his son did seem to have a pretty solid idea of where he was going. The other Vikings behind him though, didn't seem to think the same. Stoic could hear the occasional whisper among the group if he listened closely enough.

"Why are weh' followin' _im'_?"

"Maybe the boy's onteh' somethin'?"

"At leas' the _chief_ seems teh' think so…"

At that Stoic shot a hard glance backward, effectively shutting up the group. After another minute of walking, the party emerged into a small clearing in the forest. The first thing stoic saw was a trench in the ground. As his eyes reached the far end of the trench, his eye's widened slightly in surprise. From how rigidly the other Vikings were standing, they'd seen it too. They slowly advanced on the brilliantly shining object, taking in more details as they advanced.

_What do you know… the boy was right._

It was clearly shaped like a man, and was sprawled haphazardly on the ground. He knelt to examine it, and immediately noted the surface of the object. Whatever bits of it weren't covered in dirt and grime, shone brilliantly in the morning light. It reminded him vaguely of polished steel, similar to what you'd find in the finest of ceremonial swords, but a feeling in his gut told him that this was much, much stronger.

As Stoic looked over the sight, he noticed that the trench pointed in the direction of the original crater, so from what he could tell, the figure had come from that direction.

_How did it survive the hit? After a flight like that, there shouldn't be anything left, yet there's only a scratch or two! _

"What is ih', Stoic?"

"It looks like body armor er somethin'; similar teh what those crazy Saxon's wear, jus' more protective, but I don't see how yeh'd put it on." He thought for a moment, and then continued.

"As much as I hate teh say it, we have teh' take it back to the village. There may be someone inside ih' and until weh' know what their intentions are, we need teh' keep a close eye on em'."

The others stared at him dumbfounded but didn't question, except for one.

"Stoic? We only just found im', how can we know whoever's in that thing isn't a danger to us?" Stoic turned a calm, but commanding eye to the offending Viking.

"We can't. Until weh' know his intentions, he will beh' kept under heavy guard, and since yeh' seem teh' be the most concerned abou' any threat he may pose, you jus' volunteered fer' tha' job."

He turned away from the now scowling Viking and turned his attention back to the figure at his feet. It hadn't stirred or spoken once during the past few minutes, and wasn't showing signs of starting soon. He knelt down and lifted lift one of the figures arms, and was surprised at just how heavy its arm alone was. The other Vikings joined in and tried to lift the armor together and succeeded in getting it off the ground, but it didn't take long to figure out that they wouldn't get far. They went for another try, but then paused for a second when they thought they heard a grunt from somewhere. They shrugged it off, but almost jumped out of their skin when an unseen voice yelled:

"What are you DOING!?"

Travis was unceremoniously dumped on the ground as the men above him drew their weapons looking for the source of the noise. He'd yelled out like that after seeing the men that he would later find were Vikings trying to lift him. In all honesty though, wouldn't you respond the same if you woke to several incredibly large men with their arms and hands wrapped around various parts of you and trying to take you somewhere? He'd almost gone into a panic.

He rolled his eyes and watched as they scanned the surrounding foliage for the source of the voice.

"Down here."

They turned back in surprise hearing the voice coming from the figure they'd just been manhandling. Almost immediately, several of them held their blades over him, and the others backed away cautiously.

"Whoa, whoa, WHOA!" he yelped, looking at the wickedly glinting metal held above him.

He knew they didn't have a chance of getting through the armor, but still, the feeling of waking up to being manhandled then held at sword point was not pleasant.

"Jesus! What did I do!? I'm just laying here!"

A burly, red haired man with the biggest beard Travis had ever seen moved forward and glowered down at him. Travis shivered when he met his eyes. His gaze was as hard as steel and on an impulse; Travis assumed he had a very short temper.

"Don' make any sudden moves, _foreigner_. Yer' out matched". He practically spat the word out.

Travis stared back at him. _Oh joy, I like him already._

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on it." _With an attitude like that though, I sure wish I could._

"Good." There was silence between them for a moment, before the man spoke up again.

"So, Who. Are. You?"

* * *

Jeeze, I had to go back and re-read everything I wrote to make sure that everything was consistent when I wrote this, and even then I'm not sure. I also came to a realization that I haven't touched this since _January_. My thoughts drift to it in some form every day, but I just now sat down and did something about it. I have a few ideas in mind for future chapters should I ever reach them, but for now, I just have to take this one step at a time. Also a small note: the formatting in this chapter may be a little different than the previous. I wanted to try and make the text less confusing as well as clean up the style for future chapters (if they happen). I'm still experimenting though, so feedback on how I can improve the formatting would be well appreciated!


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